


Falling in retrograde motion. (the B-side)

by bellmare



Series: the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (hidden track) [2]
Category: Persona 3, Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Social Links, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3231674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellmare/pseuds/bellmare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between Igor and the four attendants, Souji's starting to feel outnumbered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling in retrograde motion. (the B-side)

**Author's Note:**

> Things to keep in mind: I called feMC Minami here, because it feels like less of a total rehash of Minato's name. For the curious, it's an uncommon reading of 「美海」. Name symbolism. I enjoy it. A lot.
> 
> Other things: Minami's Velvet Room digs are mostly based upon [ this](http://tierciel.tumblr.com/post/91646354453/96), by [sr96](http://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=486594)@pixiv.

_Spring._

He never used to have trouble sleeping.

Not until Inaba. Not until he sleeps and awakens to images of thick fog that stretches for miles around him. 

Sometimes, he dreams about someone whose features stay clouded and indistinct as his surroundings. She -- for the figure looks like a woman, a girl -- takes him and leads him gently back, back from where he came.

The checkerboard floors give way to angular red tiles, laid in a herringbone pattern. Then, to soft blue that sinks slightly beneath his weight.

.

It's not enough to visit the Velvet Room when he's awake. Now he's summoned to it while he's asleep, too.

The new attendant -- and he presumes she's an attendant, because she wears blue, just like Margaret -- winks at him. Igor gazes at Souji, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Margaret turns away; there's a stiffness to the slope of her shoulders. 

"Very curious. It seems as though providence has decided to allot you a new assistant to help you with your journey."

Light winks off of the pins in the attendant's hair and the gilded buttons of her coat. 

"What will she be helping me with?"

"Ah." Igor waves a hand and the Velvet Room in Souji's dream seems to waver. Souji recognises it as a sign that the meeting has reached its conclusion. "That's for you -- and her -- to decide. Well then, until we meet again ... farewell."

.

For several visits, she watches him fuse personae. Sometimes Souji thinks he catches her smiling, chin cupped in her hand, elbows on her knees as she observes.

"Something funny?"

"Oh, no. It's just, it felt kinda nostalgic. What're you trying to make, anyway?"

Souji sets down the cards. "I don't know. Something to make exploring  easier, I guess. Maybe something that can hit multiple weaknesses, without me having to switch. Saves some time."

"Hmm. How about something with the four elements?"

Souji stares at her. It sounds easier said than done. 

"Here." She take his hand and guides it, fanning out the cards before them. Then, she selects two -- Izanagi and Sandman. "There, try fusing these two. Looks like you've got a Valkyrie, too. Try fusing that with the earlier one."

The resulting card -- Archangel -- hovers gently before him.

"It even comes with hama, if you feel like switching things up a little. Neat, huh?"

"You're pretty good at this. Thanks, uh ..."

She cocks her head slightly. "What's the matter?"

"I don't think I caught your name."

"Oh." She looks away, absently smoothing down her skirt. She seems to think about it for a long time before she answers. "Names are power, you know."

Her response catches him off-guard. Souji looks at her, trying to read the expression in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"To know someone is to hold them."

"I ..." Souji pauses, unsettled. "I didn't mean--"

Here, she smiles. "I'm just kidding. But ... I guess you can call me Marisa."

He frowns at her choice in wording; at the way she pauses, uncertain, over the syllables of her name. "Marisa, then. Thanks for the help. I appreciate it."

.

Once, he asks Marie what she thinks of the Velvet Room and life within it. She looks at him as though he's grown another head.

"What else can I say? Everyone bosses me around. It's not like there's anything else to do, or anything."

"Right." Souji pops the tab on his can of Cielo Mist. "Well, I'm sure they know what they're doing."

"That new girl's not bad, though." Marie brightens slightly. "I like her. She's nice."

"Oh?"

"We talk sometimes. We've gotta stick together, you know? Us people with no memories and stuff."

"No memories?"

"Yeah." Marie chews thoughtfully, now intent on puncturing pinprick holes in the cardboard tray her croquettes came in. "I know how lonely it is; I'm glad there's someone else who understands."

.

The first quest arrives late in May.

"If you could, I would like for you to bring me ... hm. The Vel Vel Muruga."

She's looking askance at him. Souji's sure he's seen someone else with crimson eyes before. "What's that and why do you want it?"

"It's a weapon. A very beautiful one. Like an elegant bird, soaring into battle." Marisa smiles, almost wistfully.  "I think you can find it in rare chests in the castle. As to why I want it ... well, that's a secret."

.

Other times, she asks him for simpler things. Spoils of battle, obtained from shadows -- shining mirrors; segments of a tiara shadow's crown; gleaming insect shells or horn sections. Sometimes, she asks for things from in and around Inaba -- canned drinks; a Featherman figure; dog treats. He never questions why she wants such a strange assortment of items; she never offers an explanation. 

Today is different. "Please bring me a pair of headphones," she says. "I'm sure you'll be able to get them sometime next week if you ask the right person."

Souji wonders if it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. The quest deadline looms over him and he goes to Yosuke for help, accompanying him to Okina City.

"What sort of specs are you looking for? Any particular make or model?"

"Not really." Souji puts down a box and closes his eyes, trying to imagine what sort of headphones a person living in a metaphysical limousine would possibly want.

Souji ends up choosing a cherry-red pair. Yosuke stares at him, vaguely amused. "Didn't think that was your colour, partner. I pegged you as more of a grey or silver kinda guy."

"Shut up," Souji says. "I own things in other colours too."

"You do  _not_. C'mon, dude, I've yet to see you wear anything that isn't grey."

Souji opens his mouth to argue, and realises Yosuke is right. "Shut up," he says instead. 

Marisa is waiting expectantly when he returns to the Velvet Room. She accepts the box from him and turns it over curiously, then peels it open. "You got me red ones?" she asks, looping them around her neck.

The red clashes terribly with the blue of her uniform. The endless blue of the Velvet Room. It matches her eyes. 

"Thank you very much. I'm glad you didn't get blue ones."

"I figured you'd have had enough of being surrounded by blue things."

She laughs, a little. "Do you know why my clothes are blue?"

"... to match the Velvet Room?"

She smiles, a small, secret smile. "I'll give you four choices. One: I look attractive in blue. Two: I look presentable in blue. Three: Why not? Four: other."

"You sound like you don't really know, yourself."

"Hmmm." She leans back in her seat, absently drumming her fingers against the upholstery. "I'll have to ask Igor for the true answer." 

.

_Summer._

"Does it ever get boring in the Velvet Room?"

Marisa shrugs. "Not really. The concept of time does not really exist for its residents. But sometimes a change of scenery is nice."

"Is that why you asked me to bring you out?"

Her eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile. "Maybe. Maybe I wanted to see what it'd be like to go on a date with you."

He'd brought her to Okina City; it'd seemed like a good place to start with, at the time. Until she'd gotten started on the crane game, and set about trying to win one of each prize.

At the Café Chagall, he asks her, "cream or sugar in your coffee?"

Marisa picks up a Jack Frost doll she won and places it on her lap, absently squeezing its cheeks. "Hot sauce," she says with a completely straight face.

She meets his stare for several seconds, then bursts out laughing. "I'm just kidding."

Their drinks arrive; Souji watches as she pours cream and several packets of sugar into her coffee.  

"You know, when you made that face, you kinda reminded me of someone."

"Ah. You're remembering things now?"

"Maybe." She's looking in his direction, but not really looking  _at_  him. "I think that person was ... a dear friend. It feels ... it feels painful, not remembering who they are. What they look like, or what they sound like."

.

Sometimes, she doesn't ask him to take her to anywhere specific; sometimes, she just asks to go wherever he chooses to.

"Do you believe in choice?" she asks one evening, while they're at the Samegawa. The days are long at this time of the year; his ears are buzzing with the drone of cicadas.

"I suppose. It dpends on what you define it as." Souji threads his fishhook and attaches a piece of bait, then casts his line. 

"Let me rephrase that, then. Do you believe in free will? Or are the choices we make based on necessity?"

"It depends."

Marisa perches at the edge of the pier, legs dangling into the water, stockings and shoes next to her. She shades her eyes against the glare of the sun, gazing unblinkingly at the surface of the water. Souji tries not to stare at the strange, regular weals circling her calves and crawling up her thighs. "Do you know why they call it the sea of the unconscious?" she asks.

Souji frowns slightly at the change of the subject, though she can't see him. "Not really."

"Because everything is connected, in some way. We are all rivers. Tributaries. Just like this one." She extends a hand, fingers splayed. Ripples from the water's surface reflect slashes of sunlight against the blue of her uniform. "Though we may not know it, we are all connected to the great, collective unconsciousness."

There's a tug on the line. Souji pulls hard, and lands a trout. It wriggles as he unhooks it, thrashing against his grip.

"No man is an island." Against the sunset, Marisa's hair is burnished bronze. For the first time, Souji notices the pattern of her hairpins -- two on the left side of her head, in the shape of a  _V_. Or maybe a Roman numeral. "In the end, we all flow back into the sea."

.

"Do you know why I ask you to bring me weapons?"

It's July; Souji has come to expect a request like this every month. In June, it was the Gáe Buide from the bathhouse. "Not really. Everyone has their hobbies. I like fishing; you like collecting polearms. It's not my place to judge. Most people just collect coins or stamps, though. At least they're easier to obtain."

Marisa laughs. "Quite right. This time, I'd like for you to bring me the Gáe Derg. Another legendary weapon of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne's. The cruel red spear that destroys all magic it pierces. Perhaps I should teach you how to use it."

Souji shakes his head. She didn't answer her own question; he knows there's no point pursuing an answer. "I'm fine, thanks. What will I use it for, anyway?"

As is her habit, Marisa smiles one of her uninterpretable smiles. "To cut through the veils of lies and illusion."

.

Early in August, a woman visits. Like Margaret, like Marisa, she's dressed in blue. Her eyes are shadow-gold, almost luminous in the dim light of the Velvet Room.

"Master. Sister." She inclines her head towards Souji, Marie, and Marisa. "It has been a long time."

"Elizabeth," Igor says. "Please sit."

Souji shifts slightly, to make room for the newcomer. He's starting to feel distinctly outnumbered. The six of them -- Igor, Margaret, Marie, Elizabeth, Marisa, himself -- regard one another silently. Marie loses interest first, turning her head to stare out of the window. Elizabeth suddenly seems preoccupied with examining the light fixtures.

"Who's this?" Souji asks at last when he can't take the mounting discomfort any more. 

"My fickle younger sister," Margaret says, "and also--"

"--a former Velvet Room attendant who's flagrantly abandoned her duties!" Elizabeth says, sounding almost pleased with herself.

"Nice to meet you," Souji says after silence yawns for several seconds too long. 

Marisa speaks up for the first time since Elizabeth appeared. "Elizabeth ... how's ... how's Theo?"

"You remember, then?" Elizabeth asks, suddenly serious. 

"N-no, not really. But ... I think I'm worried about him. Whoever he is."

"He made a choice," Margaret says. Her voice is soft, but the harshness to it sets Souji's teeth on edge. "Albeit, a foolish one."

Elizabeth shrugs, avoiding her sister's eyes. "He chose it of his own free will."

"And you let him."

"And I let him," Elizabeth agrees. "I think it's a fine way to build character. I do believe he's enjoying his bouts against  _it_. It's a rare opportunity for us to fight opponents like that."

"He's our brother. The youngest. You should have stopped him!" It's the first time Souji has ever heard Margaret raise her voice. It cracks towards the end; suddenly, Souji wishes he was elsewhere.

"I couldn't." Elizabeth, in contrast, grows quieter. "It's precisely because he's our brother that I must respect his wishes. Sister, surely you understand."

"Go to him. Bring him back."

Elizabeth stands to leave, smoothing down her skirt. "I'm sorry, sister. You know I cannot do that. But I'll send him your love." Here, she turns to Igor. "Master, please forgive me for departing yet again." Then she turns without waiting for a reply, stepping into the fog; she disappears before long, a small figure vanishing into the gloom. Marisa alone watches her go, hands clenched on her lap.

.

He brings her to the Dojima residence.

It's strange, watching Marisa chat with Nanako about her holiday homework.

"That book!" The eagerness in her voice takes Souji by surprise. Silently, he passes her the book for Nanako's summer reading and she takes it, running her fingers over the title embossed on the cover. "I think I remember a little about how it goes. Once, in a deep forest near a small, small river, there lived a pink alligator ..."

"Oh!" Nanako beams. "Wow, it only just came out, and you know it by art!"

"By heart," Souji corrects. To Marisa, he asks, "what's it about?"

Marisa's fingers are laced over the closed book. "There was once an alligator, living in a forest. However, it couldn't hunt for food because it was pink, and was always hungry. Along the way, it made a friend, a bird that couldn't fly. They spent a long time together, and they were very happy."

"That's really nice," Nanako says. 

"But it couldn't last. Dizzy with hunger, the pink alligator accidentally ate her friend one day, and ... and ..." Here, she pauses; her voice wavers, as though she can't decide what to say. "No ... her friend ... asked her to kill him to ... to save everyone. No, that's not how it went." Marisa draws a shuddering breath; Souji touches her wrist, uncertain.

"The alligator was sad." Marisa pulls away slowly, hugging her hand to her chest. "So sad. At what she'd done. At what she had to do, at the choice she had to make. She cried, and cried, and cried ... until she drowned in her own tears. Her tears became a beautiful lake ... which nourished the forest she had lived in. Many of the other animals in the forest never knew the alligator had ... helped save the forest ... or that she was gone. Not until it was too late."

Nanako inches to Marisa's side of the table and hugs her, hesitantly. "Don't be sad," she says. "It's just a story ... right?"

Marisa clutches Nanako to her, as though afraid to let go. "Yeah. Even though the alligator never really found the meaning of her life ... as long as she managed to help other people, I think she would've been happy."

.

_Autumn._

He enters the Velvet Room to find Elizabeth seated next to Marie. Igor is nowhere in sight.

"Our master has stepped out for a moment," she says brightly. "We were just telling Marie about the Long Nose Song."

"The Long Nose Song?"

"Have you not heard it?" Elizabeth gasps theatrically, placing her hands over her mouth. "Sister, how could you!"

Margaret almost seems to scowl. "I think I could say the same of you, for returning without Theo."

Elizabeth refuses to be deterred. "Come now, sister! This grave oversight on your part needs to be remedied. Now, then, there are four of us here. I hereby call for the assemblage of the Velvet Room Quartet! Of course, it isn't quite the same without Theo providing the tenor."

Margaret looks like she's about to argue, then appears to relent. "Very well. Just this once."

"Good." Elizabeth claps her hands together, then turns to Marie, wedged between her and Marisa. "Do you know the words now?"

"Yes," Marie mumbles while Marisa nods, leaning forwards eagerly. "Why do I have to take part in this stupid thing, anyway?"

"Why, because you're a resident of the Velvet Room, of course! If you'd like, you can think of it as the collective screams of our pathoses. The soulful cries of our inner selves ... yo, man!"

Margaret smiles faintly as Marie opens her mouth in indignation. Elizabeth, however, cuts in before she can speak. "Now then, is everyone ready?" Then, she claps once, twice, thrice. The four attendants start to sing, each at a different pace and tune.

"Velvet, oh Velvet! My master has a large nooooose ..."

.

This month's request is to retrieve a weapon from the Void Quest.

" _Fangtian Huaji_." Marisa says. "The Sky Piercer." She runs her finger along its crescent-moon blades, thoughtful. "It was said to belong to a mighty warrior named Lu Bu. Have you heard of him?"

"Sort of."

"Hmm." Marisa hums, drumming her fingers against the side of her seat. "He was ... unfettered. Ruthless. Alliances meant little to him. Do you know why I sent you to that area to retrieve the betrayer's weapon?"

She holds out his reward; as always, with her weapon requests, she gives him what she calls incense cards. Court cards of the Minor Arcana -- this time, it's the Page and Knight of Swords. "Not really," Souji says.

Marisa doesn't let go of the cards. "Because things are not always as they seem."

Souji stares at her. "We know Mitsuo wasn't the culprit."

She smiles and opens her hand, letting Souji take the cards. "Yes, but there's more to that than meets the eye."

.

"This time, I have something for you."

Marisa raises her brows at him, then resumes petting the fox. It leans into her touch, and licks her hand. "What for?"

"For helping me ... ? There doesn't have to be a reason."

"Oh." She smiles. "In that case, I will be glad to accept."

He gives her a bead ring, just like the one Nanako made for him. She takes it, then gently slips it on. "Is this ... ?"

"From Nanako. She was worried about you and wanted to make you something to help you feel better."

"Is that so?" Marisa clasps and unclasps her hands, rolling the beads back and forth. "Ah ... I feel like ... someone once gave something like this to me." She pauses and shakes her head, as though confused. "I ... please convey my sincerest thanks to her. And ... please tell her I'm sorry, too."

"What for?"

She gazes at him, features mottled by the shadows cast from overhanging leaves. "For ... the last time I visited. I'm sorry if I upset her. I must have spoilt the story for her."

Souji tries to laugh. It comes out shaped all wrong. "She did well for her book report, though her teacher sent back a letter telling us they were worried about her talking about things like the meaning of life."

Like him, Marisa tries to smile; it falters, never making it all the way. "I'm glad I could help, then. Tell her I won't forget her kindness, too."

"Of course."

"I won't forget," Marisa repeats. Her fist clenches; she clutches it with her free hand. Then, her voice wavers and she gazes at him, stricken. "I ... I made a promise and ... how could I  _forget_?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Souji hesitates. "You're remembering now, right? Surely that's a good start."

"Maybe." Marisa says, her voice soft and tremulous. "But now I wish I didn't."

.

The next time he sees her, she is as unreadable as always. Souji watches carefully, but catches no sign of her previous sadness. He wonders which one it is -- whether it's in the nature of a resident of the Velvet Room to quash emotion quickly, or whether it's from practise; a remnant of who she was before, perhaps.

"You're a strong person," he says.

She smiles. It doesn't quite reach her eyes; Souji's almost fooled. "I had -- have -- to be. For the sake of everyone else. But that isn't the issue here. Have you been strengthening yourself?"

He's come to expect her segues, too. "More or less."

"Good. Then please retrieve the Green Dragon Crescent Blade for me. The  _Qinglong Yanyuedao,_  Guan Yu's legendary guan dao. Do you know the story behind its origins?"

"No."

"It was said to be forged by a blacksmith, who saw a passing dragon. He cut up the dragon, and its body was used in the making of this weapon."

"That's morbid."

Marisa laughs, a little. "Isn't it? Well, then, I'm sure you can find it in the laboratory. A fitting place for it to lie."

.

"I cannot let you pass any further today."

Marisa stands in front of the Velvet Room door. He takes a deep breath, and says, "don't stop me". Her expression doesn't change. 

"You won't be able to save anyone if you're blinded by rage ... or the desire for vengeance."

"Speaking from experience?" he asks before he can stop himself.

She laughs, sounding tired. "Not my own. I've seen it destroy others, and everyone it touches on the periphery."

Souji inhales sharply through his nose, then curls his fingers into fists. " _Nanako's_  trapped there!" he snarls. "How can you leave her? I thought you, of all people, would understand."

Marisa doesn't flinch when he slams his palms against the Velvet Room door on either side of her; she gazes levelly up at him, mouth set in a grim line. "You forget yourself," she says, very softly; at the last word, he hears the tremor break into her voice.

She's right. Souji slumps, letting his hand fall limply to his side. The silence stretches, tense as harp strings. "Sorry. I should never have what I did. Earlier."

Marisa takes his hand in hers and squeezes gently. "I understand your feelings."

"And yet you stay so strong."

Her grip loosens. She shakes her head, gazing into the fog. "I had to be. If I wasn't -- if I  _couldn't_  -- I'd have had no right to call myself a leader."

.

_Winter._

On Christmas Eve, she says, "I wish to see your room."

Uncharacteristically, she's quiet during the walk back to the Dojima residence. Her silence continues until she steps into the house, lining up her boots neatly by the threshold. She removes her coat and drapes it over one arm, staring into the dark yard while Souji shuts the door behind him. 

"It must've been lonely," she says to her reflection. Her breath fogs the glass, obscuring the image. "I hope you don't mind."

"What do you mean?"

"Me being this forward." She steps lightly towards him, and follows as he leads the way up the stairs. The corridor is dark; he'd forgotten to turn the light on before he left. "Asking to see your room ... tonight, of all times."

"It's fine."

"Did it make you apprehensive?"

"No," he says.

"Did you ever wonder why I asked to see your world? Or how you gradually brought me closer and closer to places central to your life?" 

Souji sits down beside her on the sofa. "Sometimes."

"I wanted to see how you stood in the world. How it stood around you. And above all, I wanted to see if ... it was worth it. I guess I shouldn't have worried."

"Worth what?" he asks.

"Something important. A great sacrifice,maybe."

When he doesn't answer, she asks, "do you believe in choice?"

"Yes. Maybe. Why?"

"If you had to choose between two things. Between duty, and your own wishes. Which would you choose?"

"Duty, I guess." 

Marisa laughs, looking strangely satisfied. "I thought so. That's precisely why this is the last request I will make of you. It won't do for me to stay in this world any longer, lest I forget my duties."

"As a resident of the Velvet Room?"

"Maybe." 

Souji hesitates, then leans closer. Marisa does not pull away; she meets his eyes, her expression unreadable.

"Where will you go now?" he asks. She rests her hand on the side of his face and pulls him closer, then kisses him.

"Back," she says and averts her eyes.

"Don't." Marisa sighs as he kisses the side of her neck, loosening her ribbon. She works off her stockings, then unbuckles his belt as he removes the pins from her hair. She straddles him, skirt hitched over her thighs; he can see the scars clearly now, winding and branching across her skin. 

She takes his chin and tilts his face back towards her. "Even after you said you'd choose duty over your own desires?"

Souji's breath catches when she takes him in her hand. "Yes," he chokes out and she smiles against his throat. 

"You're supposed to close your eyes at times like these," she says. He obeys, shutting his eyes as she kisses his jaw, his chin, his neck; she nips, gently, at his shoulder and he jerks, feeling himself swelling in her hand. Blindly, he reaches towards her; she catches him by the forearm with her other hand and kisses his wrist, then along his inner arm. Her hair tickles against his skin.

She blindfolds him with her ribbon and when he opens his eyes, all Souji sees is blue, blue, blue. He doesn't know how long she teases him for -- brings him closer, closer to his limit then eases up, her touch light against his cock. Then, when he feels like he's about to burst she takes him into her and pauses, hands braced against his shoulders. Her nails dig into his skin as she rides him. He rests his hands on her thighs, feeling the muscles shift and tense; the scars are rough beneath his fingers.

Sacrifice. That's what she'd said. He flinches and she bends her head towards him; instead, he cards his hands though her hair.

.

The new year dawns, cold and bright. Marisa is no longer in the Velvet Room.

"Where has she gone?" Souji asks, fist clenching around the key in his pocket.

"Back," Margaret replies. And then she says, "I'm very sorry" as Souji steps out and back into the Shopping District.

.

In hindsight, he should have expected it. By February, the Velvet Room feels strangely empty. 

"Is it common for people to leave the Velvet Room once they've completed their journey?" he asks. Laid across his lap are thee polearms he'd found -- one from Heaven, one from Magatsu Inaba, one from the Hollow Forest. The  _Yueyachan_ , the Tonbogiri, and the Khakkara. He'd never had time to hand the first one in; Marisa had never asked for the last two.

"It happens," Margaret says. "Those searching for themselves in the sea of the soul eventually drift ashore, and no longer need the sheltering harbours. That, or they return."

"To where?"

"The deep blue sea," she says simply.

.

He finds her at the final level of Magatsu Inaba, long after the Hollow Forest has collapsed into itself. Long after he's entered and left the Yomotsu Hirasaka time and time again, searching for a familiar figure in the fog.

Marisa sits on the end of the precipice with her back to him, legs dangling over the edge. Azure butterflies circle the air around Souji, before flitting towards her. She raises a hand and one alights on her fingers, papery wings fluttering.

"Why did you leave?" he asks, shouting over the roar of the wind.

The butterflies circling her lend a pale blue cast to her features. She stands, brushing off her coat, and turns to face him. The pins in her hair have changed, no longer arranged in the shape of a  _V_. From here, he can't make out their pattern. "Do you believe in choice?" she asks him again.

"I don't know."

"If you had to choose between two things. Between duty, and your own wishes. Which would you choose?"

He knows where this is going. Where it will go. "My own wishes," he says, forcing the words out.

She smiles; it's just like he remembers. "And what, exactly, makes those wishes yours, and yours alone? What defines 'you', or what is 'yours'?"

Souji doesn't reply.

"Those who gather in the Velvet Room are destined to embark on a search for identity." She holds her hands out. The butterflies coalesce into items Souji's familiar with. A naginata. A gun. She follows his gaze to her weapon and grins.

"The Ame-no-nuboko. Have you heard of it?"

"Yes."

"Tell me."

Souji tightens his grip on his sword, searching his memory. "The jewelled spear, used by Izanagi and Izanami to create the land. On the bridge between heaven and earth, they churned the primordial sea, forming the first island. Onogoroshima."

"Well done!"

"I've been reading," he says, voice unsteady. "You never collected the other items I turned in." He tries to laugh. "I had to learn about them myself."

"Sorry about that. I had to go, but ... I guess it was rude to just leave like that."

"Why did you leave?" he asks again.

Marisa holds out the gun, pointing it at some point over his shoulder. "Someone once asked me to fight him, so he could discover the truth of his existence."

"But you've already found it."

"Maybe." She shifts her weight to one foot and taps the other against the cracked road. "Regardless, will you do me the honour of fighting me?"

This, too, he has been expecting. He forces a smile, and says, "the pleasure is all mine."

Marisa laughs, carefree and uninhibited. "I'm glad," she says. She tilts the gun, and points it at the side of her head.

.

She uses personae he doesn't recognise. Even if he knows their names, the forms that arise from the fog are strange and unfamiliar.

They flicker, pale and shadowy against the red-black skies. Not quite like his own personae, or the ones his friend uses -- their images seem to waver, as though manifesting is a struggle. As though they don't quite belong.

Unlike the personae, the magic used is magic he knows well. Magic she helped him fuse into his own personae, over the course of the year. Ragnarok. Niflheim. Panta Rhei. Thunder Reign. Vorpal Blade, Pralaya, God's Hand. Even though he unearths a pattern, there's no opening for him to attack.

"Please, forget about the past year. About our time spent together." Marisa's voice is strong and clear, unwavering as she presses the gun to her head and evokes. An explosive roar fills the air, interspersed with the harsh sound of glass breaking. A persona looms behind her -- he's heard her call its name, heard her summon it as Artemesia. "Whatever you do, don't hold back."

The air around him chills, cracking as it freezes. Niflheim, his mind murmurs as he hurriedly switches his persona. The ice burns against his skin, even with his persona's resistance. "I can't," he coughs out, shivering against the cold. 

She switches personae again, this time summoning Caesar. He smells the sharp tang of ozone, feels rather than hears the crackle of electricity in the air and against his skin.

"I can't," Souji says again, and thrusts his sword into the ground. He leans heavily against it, trembling. "Not--not on your life." Each word is an effort. 

"I overstayed my welcome," Marisa says, her gaze distant, her voice quiet. "In the end, I really did forsake my duties and give way to my wishes. But no longer."

Dimly, he's puzzled by the persona she summons -- a Pixie. He struggles upright as she casts diarahan, then hesitates.

"I've made my choice; I can't have you changing my mind," she says; Souji feels his teeth humming in his jaw as pinpricks of light flare around him, then converge.

.

"You did well. I'm very proud of you."

Consciousness returns to him sluggishly, like fish stirring at the bottom of a deep pond. The images flit through his mind, jumbled and disordered -- the Pixie; Marisa, looking away as the spell connects; the pins, gleaming in her hair, laid out in a neat pattern.  _XXII_. 

Souji sits up so quickly he feels ill. A hand on his chest pushes him back down. Marisa's hand is warm against the side of his face. She presses a finger to her lips, and raises her gun to her head. Unlike her other personae, Pixie manifests clearly, swathed in pale light. This time, the magic is gentle and soothing.

Only then does Marisa let him up. She watches him for several seconds, then stands.

"Minami," she says at last. "That's who I was. Who I am." She laughs, disparaging. "Though nobody's called me that for a long time."

"Minami," he says. She tilts her head slightly, a faint smile on her face. "Are you sure? About your decision."

Her smile falters. "No," she says. "But there isn't a choice."

"I thought you believed in choice."

"Only sometimes." Minami extends a hand, and helps him up. When he staggers, she steadies him, then cups his face in her hands. She tiptoes to reach him, and kisses him gently. Then releases him, and takes a step back and turns away.

"See you on the flipside!" she calls over her shoulder as she walks away, gun loosely held in her hands. 

He blinks once, twice, trying to see where she goes -- but within moments, she's gone.

.

"Igor wasn't angry?" he asks Margaret, at the top of Heaven. "With what your brother and sister did without his approval."

Margaret's lips quirk slightly. "My master is old, and has seen many residents and guests come and leave," she says as she picks up the fallen Compendium. "He is accustomed to the whims of his assistants -- particularly those of my mercurial siblings. As they say, nothing happens in the Velvet Room for no reason; thus, he observes, but doesn't interfere. Likewise, I've decided to follow his example. I won't interfere with Theo's decisions any more."

.

When Souji returns during Golden Week, there's someone waiting for him outside the Velvet Room.

The stranger has pale hair, golden eyes. "You must be Theo," Souji says.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Theo says. "I  came to convey my sincerest thanks to you for taking care of my guest this past year."

"I thought you didn't wish to return," Souji says without thinking. 

Theo bows his head, as though embarrassed. "You are not mistaken. However, my guest's instructions were absolute; it was not a solution she desired. No ... she wanted one without sacrifice. Without another having to take her place, even if it meant her liberation from her duty."

"I see."

"Until I find another solution, that is where she chooses to remain. That is not to say I won't stop trying, of course. And, if using my own power fails, then I will combine it with those who bonded with my guest."

"Until then," Souji says as he turns to leave, "I'll be here."

**Author's Note:**

> Hurray, the duology's finished. Time to write _more_ self-indulgent stuff. Even more self-indulgent than this series, anyway.
> 
> There are a lot of similarities between the A-side and B-side. Because, you know. Mirrors. Everything's meant to mirror things. Even the wordcount. Maybe. Hopefully. Souji's dialogue responses are mostly similar, though with a few more options since feMC's more chatty than her counterpart. Along with having a different battle style, even if both have access to the same personae. It's ~*~ _symboooooliiiiiic_ ~*~.
> 
> Why write two versions? Because they're different people. That is all.


End file.
